Arthur Is Not Okay
by CrimsonMidnightKisses
Summary: FrUK. Highschool AU featuring Punk!England and Prep!France. Human names used. Lemon in future chapters. Semi-graphic cutting scenes and a future attempt of suicide. Multi-chapter.


**AN: Features Punk!England and Prep!Francis. FrUK. Semi-graphic cutting scenes and an attempt of suicide. High school AU.**

Chapter One: Pilot

Arthur never thought he was worth much and nobody knew a lot about him. They didn't know where he came from or what type of life he lived, but they all knew he was a strange young man. He was a good student with magnificent grades and a highly active imagination. The one complaint that was received from any teacher would be that the boy would have a tendency to let his mind wander. He always seemed so distracted in class, but his work was wonderful despite the awful notes that he doodled over.

Then there was Francis, who invaded the young Brit's mind on a daily basis and also invaded his personal space within his little bubble of security. Constantly pushing him into a locker, getting too close when they argued, and stepping over boundaries that they both knew was going too far. Francis was probably the most "popular" boy in the whole school based on his looks alone since Arthur was a freshman and the French boy was a sophomore. Francis had long blond hair that curled at the ends and crystal blue eyes that Arthur seemed to drown himself in.

The Brit snorted as he realized he had thought of "drowning" in those eyes and brought his attention back to the class he was in. What was it again? Calculus. There were numbers on the board, so it had to be a form of math. Back to his original thought, Arthur looked around the room to see the French boy making eyes at his most recent girlfriend, who blushed in return. All the Brit could do was sigh at the sight before mentally scolding himself. He turned back to the board and let his daydreams take off once again when he realized the teacher was just reviewing the homework he completed earlier that week. It wasn't his fault that the teacher would write out all the homework for the week on the board.

Francis had a new girl at his side every week and Arthur never had anyone for his own. There was once a boy who adored him and loved him to the ends of the earth, but then that boy, with blond hair that curled at the ends and crystal blue eyes that Arthur seemed to drown himself in, went to high school and left him behind. Arthur thought that things would go back to normal when he went to the same school as the French boy, but he was very rudely awakened. On the first day of school his locker was filled with rainbow streamers that had "faggot" written on them with _his_ beautiful handwriting. As if trying to make a point to Francis the day after that Arthur wore the cloth streamers tied around his clothes and one around his backpack. The Brit took the one off his backpack after the first two months of his freshman year.

He secretly cried in his single dorm every night up until he went home to his family around Christmas time. He wouldn't dare show them any emotion that wasn't stoic, just like them. They honestly did care about their son, but they knew him as well as they knew each other. Arthur came from a very wealthy family and was raised by his nanny and his nanny alone. He never really saw his parents, but his nanny was good to him. She taught him how to sing and play guitar by the age of five. He was a brilliant little boy, but as he grew older he became jaded and that is when he found his love for the sound of the drums and electric guitars. They made his blood rush through his body and he could scream against the music with no one ever knowing it. It was beautiful and the lyrics knew his heart better than anyone would ever know it.

Arthur's attention was brought back to the present as he heard the bell ring for his lunch period. He packed his stuff and walked out of the classroom before anyone else did. He didn't go out to the mass hall for food like everyone else; instead he went into the men's restroom and pulled out his eyeliner from his messenger bag that was being held together with black duct tape. He began re-applying the make-up before he heard the door open. Usually he would just ignore the person, but Arthur caught a glimpse of who it was out of the corner of his eye and he scoffed as he finished up.

"The woman's bathroom is next door, try not to get it mixed up again, fag boy," Francis sneered at the other boy. Arthur just rolled his eyes as he stuffed the black applicant back into his bag.

"As long as you go straight to fucking hell while I'm at it, prick." The Brit snapped back at the older boy as he moved to stalk out of the bathroom, but the other blond stood in his way. Arthur pushed against his chest without much movement from the other and the French boy just laughed.

"See, you have turned into a girl from all those years without me. How pathetic you are." Francis' eyes gleamed with a darkened humor that only the French bastard understood.

"If I'm such a disgrace to you, then why don't you let me out, frog?" Arthur asked coldly as he folded his arms across his chest, shifting his weight onto his other leg. Francis toyed with his retort for a moment before looking him in the eyes with his own challenging gaze.

"Because I like to watch you when I fuck with your head." The French boy smirked at the other, but Arthur moved past him quickly and carried on with his own day. All of his classes included that pride driven bastard who would always look over at him after flirting with his girlfriend. How pathetic Arthur thought he was, still trying to get attention from him. How pathetic he felt for the charms actually working on him to this very day. The Brit was a Junior now while Francis was in what would be his last year of High School, but that damn French boy had flunked a year so he was in all of his classes. It wasn't that Francis wasn't smart, it didn't have to do anything with that at all. Like Arthur, Francis had a very active mind and always had to be moving or kept busy. That was their one connection when they were younger.

Arthur smiled as he thought back to the times when they were both so young and believed that they could accomplish anything that was thrown their way. He thought back to those endless summer days where he and Francis would run around all day, only stopping to have feasts on the scraps of food that wouldn't be missed at their houses. He remembered watching the stars above them and feeling a shy hand reaching out to wrap around his until they heard the voices of their nanny or, on a rare occasion, their parents searching for them. With a chaste peck on the lips they would part until morning when they would see each other again. The Kirkland and the Bonnefoy families were very tight in the means of relationships. Had Arthur or Francis been born a female, they would end up marrying each other due to the obligations within their family.

The British boy almost felt a bit of nostalgia as he mindlessly wrapped his fingers around his dog tag necklace that he was given by the blue-eyed boy when they were still close. Francis watched him from across the way secretly with a faint smile. Francis shook his head before looking back at the beautiful girl who was sending him little love notes from across the room. He smirked at her and blew a kiss, Arthur turning his head to see this before looking away again. They missed each other, but they both had too much pride between them both for either of them to admit it. Francis had regret scaring off the young boy when he first arrived at school and Arthur regretted never making an attempt to see if any of the past between them can bring back what they had. Arthur carried on through the day before retreating back to his dorm where he fell weakly down onto the bed that he claimed as his.

He never had a roommate, he always just assumed that there was an odd number of boys attending the academy, but it was like this for the past three years. He didn't mind it really; he liked the quiet and it gave him a chance to play a bit on the guitar and the electronic piano he had managed to bring with him. He was able to soundproof his room for the most part which let him play his music whenever he felt like it. His eyelids felt heavy as he rolled over on the bed and let his mind go blank for once. There was nothing for him to do and nowhere for him to be for the next few hours, so he figured that he deserved an actual time of rest considering her never really slept; which was more than likely why he was always daydreaming in class. How wrong he was to think that he would ever get some peace and quiet with an old-time friend deciding to ruin the little peace he had.

"Oi, Arturo. Open up, mi amigo, I have something to tell you!" A thick Spanish accent rang from behind the door as Arthur groaned and sat up in his bed. He felt his irritation grow as he rubbed at his tired eyes and contemplated whether or not he should allow the other to pester him today. With a deep sigh he made up his mind, but didn't budge from the spot on his bed.

"It is open, Antonio." He called back and the slightly darker skinned male burst into his room with his flashing smile. The uniform he wore was unbuttoned past regulations and the tie that should have been worn around his neck was currently wrapped around his belt loop. After slamming the door shut and jumping on the Brit's bed, Antonio looked up at Arthur with cheerfully gleaming eyes. Secretly, Arthur loved the way the Spaniard's smile illuminated his darkened face and how it was almost contagious enough to curve up the moody British boy's lips.

"Guess what I heard today," Antonio spoke with a sing-song voice like a character from a children's television show. His green eyes were softer and more welcoming than that of the British boy's including the fact that his all around personality was kinder. Arthur was too easily irritated to be as kind as the Spaniard was all the time and was far too intimidating for anyone to approach him either way.

"Is Francis dying of cancer?" The blond boy asked with a sarcastically hopeful voice and the dark haired boy just shook his head.

"There is going to be a little 'get together' when the sun goes down at the clock tower, are you in?" The Spanish boy asked with an almost pleading look in his eyes.

"I couldn't even it I wanted to. _He_ would be there and _he_ would go out of his way to make my night a living hell. I won't tolerate it," Arthur said sternly as he looked at the other with piercing eyes as he tried to make his point clear.

"Please? You don't know how much it would mean to me if you did come with me. You remember me telling you about that cute new Freshman who came in this year? Lovi? I invited him, but I don't want to make it seem like I would have been there alone if he didn't show up. Oh please?" Antonio begged as he slipped to the ground and began pleading with his eyes. His hands were clasped together as if he were in prayer while he stared up at Arthur with his bottom lip pushed out slightly. Arthur thought about it for a moment longer, biting at the inside of his cheek before sighing in defeat once again.

"Fine," he answered and was immediately embraced by the Spaniard in a warmth which the blond male relaxed into. He found some comfort in Antonio, secretly because he was reminded of Francis whenever he found himself in the arms of the very loving dark-haired man. Him and the French boy were good friends since even before Arthur was born after all, so how could they not have some similarities?

"You have just made my night perfect, mi amigo, and I promise you that I will make it up to you in every way possible." Antonio spoke quickly as he squeezed the pale boy in his arms for a moment before pulling away.

"Whatever makes you happy," Arthur responded nonchalantly and smiled weakly up at the other. Antonio kissed both of his cheeks as he went towards the door before turning around.

"Another thing, you will be acting as my date tonight to make Lovi jealous. I'll be here to come fetch you after twilight, nos vemos!" The Spaniard called out as he slammed the door shut again before Arthur could protest. The Brit groaned as he rolled back over on his stomach and buried his face into his pillow. He wanted sleep to lull him back into those endless summer days, but he was too anxious to even sit still for too long. Eventually he found comfort in thinking about Antonio's arms being replaced by the French boy's and the happiness he felt from that thought gave him the ability to find some peace at mind to sleep for a few hours.


End file.
